


Tales of Joy

by Macaria_Czol



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Anal Sex, Angst, Comedy, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Insane Best Friends, Journalists, Love/Hate, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Semi-Public Sex, Unreliable Narrator, Vaginal Sex, craziness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:38:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macaria_Czol/pseuds/Macaria_Czol
Summary: (Re-edited and changed) Some people get everything right. Joy used to be one of those people. Luck had always been on her side, which was great since success was all she ever wanted. Now, unemployed and spending far too much time stressing over the fact that her favourite jeans no longer fit, the ex-journalist doesn't know what to do with herself. It doesn't help much that her housemate and best friend was parading naked people through their house or that her sort-of ex would not leave her alone. Oh and there is an android with a plan that is honestly suicide.





	1. Never second guess your first instinct, just stay in bed

**Author's Note:**

> So I have started editing this work and adding to it. My goal is to try and update every week. I am in need of a Beta, but until then I shall just try my best. I hope you all enjoy my efforts, kudos are adored. This story is very different from most of my other works, still I thought experimenting would be fun.

She should have written the entire day off the second she woken up and gotten only exactly forty-seven minutes of sleep. Not that it was a different from every other night, for the last few weeks the longest night’s sleep she’d had probably averaged out at about three hours. Cursing the universe and every being in it, Joy had managed to lazily shove the tangled mess of curls from her red-ringed eyes and squint at the hologram clock that was flashing at her tauntingly. The garish green lights had declared it was 6:30, a fact she could have gathered from the familiar grey light shining through her open window (Recognising what time it was by dawn’s light was a skill she had picked up over the last few weeks) and if she had known that life would have gotten worse from that point, she would have just gone with her first instinct of burying her face in her pillow and ignoring life for the rest of eternity.

Of course, Joy had been an idiot and had decided to ignore the sign that the day was going to be shit. However, three hours later, all she could think about was curling up in the foetal position on her couch and pretending that she was the only person in the world. All it had taken was a spilt cup of coffee, a severely delayed magnetic-link train, a cryptic message from her roommate that seemed to suggest the bathroom was flooded and a fight with a receptionist, who had a bizarre opinion about people needing appointments. Seriously, this wasn’t a world that thrived on appointments, it was all about being at the right place at the right time. So, fuck stuck-up receptionists with perfectly manicured nails and co-ordinated skirts and blazers, Joy thought as she shifted uncomfortably on the hard bench she was sitting on, mentally trying to force her tense muscles to relax. Though, the second her neck stopped aching, all she could do was become acutely aware of the way her black trousers seemed to be trying to squeeze her to death. Yet another bad omen about her day, she had managed to put on the one piece of clothing that destroyed her happy self-delusion that she hadn’t put on a bit of weight. A lie, Joy admitted to herself as she turned her head to survey the street through the building’s glass doors. Nearly all her clothes consisted of strained buttons and popped zips at the moment. It was time to stop living off nothing Orian take-away, she mused grimly, the image of the greasy bags that littered her bedroom floor and filled the trash receptacle flashing through her head. That and drinking were probably not doing her any favours. But healthy eating would be next week’s goal. After she got herself a job...if she ever got into see Jaii’son Spectre that was.

Giving the finger subtly to the receptionist, who was now flipping through the lifestyle section of Say, the planet’s trashiest tabloid, Joy mentally prepared herself for countless hours being wasted in the dull white lobby of the Global News headquarters. She also prayed that if there was any karma in the universe that the bimbo would listen to the rag of a paper she was reading and take up some hideous fashion trend. Please, if there was anything listening, let her become a follower of the Aegean diet that left people permanently kneeling before the porcelain god for nearly a week, she thought with more sincerity than cynicism. Maybe, she was a bit too bitter. However, at that moment, Joy learnt that karma really was a thing and as far as the six galaxies were concerned, she had nothing, but bad karma owed to her in bucket loads. Perhaps it was payback for turning her back on the numerous religious sects back when she was young, she thought as she turned stark white, her freckles standing out starkly against the pale tone.  
It was official, the gods hated her.

Hands clenched into tight fists, ragged nails biting deeply into the flesh of her palms until she felt hot, sticky blood oozing up through the broken skin, Joy stared in wide-eyed disbelief as she watched the glass door of the lobby swing open and a tall, achingly familiar man walk past the reception desk and into the offices of the Global News Network, the press pass clipped to the pocket of the navy blue blazer he wore leaving no room for any misunderstanding. The idiot had managed to land a job with GNN.  
Yeah, there was no way in hell that there was anything in the universe on her side anymore. If there had been, she would not be facing her worst nightmare outside of her bedroom dressed in her interview clothes with nothing, but her holopad as a weapon. Sitting on a bench, beaten by a phone answerer, who was mad with power, while Matthew Di’xon was in a position where he could just walk into GNN as if he owned the place, it was the most humiliating experience of her life. And Joy was not forgetting the time when she’d thrown up on the Ambassador of Siruisa. Matthew had won their game and damn it, she wasn’t going to stick around and pretend that she wasn’t a sore loser. She couldn’t let him notice her, Joy thought frantically as she watched him move towards the lift. Who needed a job anyway? Lyyn earned enough now to pick up more responsibilities for the bills and they were so in debt to each other that such things were meaningless anyway. She could afford to be unemployed for a bit longer. She couldn’t afford Di’xon seeing her.  
Taking a deep breath and trying not to think about the fact that two years ago that she had been the person, who had stood in front of a two tonne Glaxian solar cannon and demanded to speak to General Igo, a rabid supremacist that had intend to commit a full-scale genocide on his home planet, Joy sprang into action. In a whirl, she grabbed her jacket that had been lying carelessly next to her on the bench and got up noiselessly, the black flats that she wore helping her move across the marble foyer without drawing the receptionist’s attention. So, she certainly wasn’t going to be arranging any interviews with war criminals anytime soon, no matter how much she wanted to. Oh, well. Maybe she could become a blogger that was a job that she could carry out from the safety of her living room.

Don’t let him see me, she chanted in the back of her mind continuously as she dashed into the intense noon light given off by Gaia’s twin suns and waved down a zoomer. Just don’t let him see me. 

Smiling weakly at the driver as she successfully flagged him down, Joy boarded the craft without a backwards glance as she tried to get back to her side of the city without the idiot seeing her. Now was not the time to end her brilliant six-month streak. No matter how bad her karma might be, the universe couldn’t be cruel enough to make her face him. This was really a joke, she should have stayed in bed.

Running a frustrated hand through her hair, Joy gave an annoyed growl as she ended up getting her fingers stuck in the cheap clip that was trying to keep her stubborn curls under control. Yanking the offending clip out of her hair and letting the untamed mess of tawny brown curls tumble around her shoulders, the former journalist reminded herself for the millionth time that she needed to get a haircut. Losing herself to her more mundane thoughts as the distance between her and the idiot grew, Joy found herself looking absentmindedly out of the window of the zoomer as the city around her changed. The brightly lit skyscrapers and holo-screens fading rapidly as they moved into the older part of the city towards the historic centre that had maintained the old red bricks and stonework of Alder’s past. Alder was one of Gaia’s oldest cities and Joy’s family had been one of its oldest families. There weren’t that many of them left and most of the old money was gone, but still Joy had gotten perks from being part of what was considered the upper class and had inherited one of the old red bricks when her great-aunt had passed away. It was a very convenient place to live and a rare to find any form of accommodation in this part of the city, even if you could afford it, as most of the buildings had become the homes of foreign diplomats and ambassadors as the Alderian palace no more than a thirty-minute walk from Joy’s front door. It was right in the middle of all the action politically and it was also Di’xon’s number one stomping ground now, she was willing to bet. There was only one position that would make Di’xon give up on the papers and switch to GNN, and that was the post of city political editor.

“Shit, I guess I am moving.” Joy muttered darkly as the familiar blue door that stood out brightly among all the sober black came into view. The door was even more eye-catching with the vivid outlines of numerous different animals having been painted onto it.

Playful kittens scratching up towards the doorknob, while birds seemed to swoop down from the top of the door frame. The art was stunning, because although the images were still, they seemed to have the very essence of movement painted into them. She always expected them to just suddenly come to life. Out of all of Lyyn’s works, the door would always be her favourite. Her neighbours hated it with an undeniable passion though. To date she’d had to deal with at least three different petitions that had tried to get her to change the door, as well as a trip to court as it was against the law to change the outside appearance of historic buildings in Alder. However, luck had been on her side as just as she’d been dealing with lawyers and housing council officers, Lyyn had managed to become the darling of the art world with a literal horde of critics and art experts, who had stood up and defended the value of Lyyn Nova’s work. Now her door had its own listing regarding its historic value, which was great even if Lyyn occasionally grumbled over the fact that she could never repaint it if the urge struck her.

Joy smiled bitterly as she swiped her wrist chip over the driver’s holopad and paid for her ride. She’d planned to see if the little grouch would extend her work to cover the entire three-story building, a whimsical idea that she knew would piss off the neighbours even more, which made it even more appealing. An endeavour that would pointless now that she had to move.

Well, at least the neighbours would be happy. And probably relieved since Lyyn was in one of her many artistic moods and currently would not paint anything but nudes, which resulted in a constant stream of models coming and going from the house. Also, Joy was fairly certain that the little Galaxian didn’t actually draw the curtains in her studio, so maybe it was more than just the parade of strangers that upset some of the neighbours. Disturbingly, Lyyn’s most recent painting had been a piece depicting the birth of one of the numerous earth goddesses, Joy couldn’t really claim to have aid much attention as to which one it was. Rather she had spent the entire time wondering when Lyyn had seen her naked long enough to have used her body as a model for her work. Gods, she had gotten every detail in there, right down to the patch of freckles on the back her neck to the annoying roll of fat that always sat on her hips. 

Giving her head a dismissive shake, Joy stopped herself from getting dragged into anymore mind-consuming theories of Lyyn having the house rigged with cameras. The artist swore that she was no longer into cameras as a medium to gather and display her work. And for the sake of their friendship, Joy was going to believe that. Walking up the steps to her home and punching the security code to the front door, Joy allowed herself a moment to bask in the fact that she had actually managed to get one part of her morning right. She had gotten away from him. A thought that she’d had far too soon the familiar and frustrating purr of a hummingbird engine assaulted her ears.  
Turning slightly, the brunette glanced over her shoulder as the small, dynamic hybrid transporter drew to a stop in front of her home. Fuck, she should have already moved. Should have moved six months ago when she had first gotten back to Gaia. Oh well, live and learn. Live and learn.


	2. Mistakes tend to be repeated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there is ever any doubt that that Joy is the Queen of Mistakes, this chapter proves that she does make poor life choices despite herself.

She froze, her feet glued to the steps and completely useless. Pressing her lips together tightly to keep her seething comments under control as she studied Di’xon’s lanky body climbing out of his vehicle with hard grey eyes. As she stared at him, Joy tried to work out how she had missed seeing him following her. Her arms began to ache as her muscles grew tense, a paranoid feeling growing at the back of her mind over the idea that she had let her guard drop. She should know when she was being followed, it had been an essential part of her life for years. Joy scrambled for an appropriate response to him tailing her back home, before deciding there was no acceptable response except the one she’d already been using; ignoring the bastard until he understood that she never wanted to see him again. Turning her back on him abruptly, she moved into the house quickly and slammed the door behind her with all the force that she could muster. It was rather satisfying, the woman thought as she leaned against the auto-locked door and listened to the reporter swear on the other side of the wood. Score one for her, finally a silver lining to her day.

“Seriously?” His flat, dry tone travelled through the door to her ears as if the barrier wasn’t even between them. “Slamming your door in my face. That is your go to response upon seeing me. I suppose it fits, considering that the sight of me had you running from GNN. You have become quite the coward in your old age.”

Gods, he really had way too much power over her and knew her buttons far too well, Joy realised as she gritted her teeth. Rage surging up inside her as he spoke. Running and age, the only things that had ever really gotten to her in the time that they had known each other. The difference of five cycles had always made things uneven. She’d never gotten used to the fact that it had made her somehow more of an adult than him and that had meant she was supposed to be the responsible one. Ha, what a joke.  
“Who’s running? No, the simple matter of it all is that the sight of you reminded me that working for GNN meant that I would have to become cardboard cut-out excuse of a journalist that only exists to spew out garbage about truth and transparency. Assuring the public that we live in a free world as opposed to a fucked up one.” Joy hissed loudly, leaning against the door and resisting the urge to bang her head against it. Do not engage, do not engage. You fucking know better than to let him get to you, she thought grimly.

“Sure.”

It was impressive, the amount of anger and rejection that a single word could carry. She could picture him so easily. Arms at his side, face set to give nothing away. He was good at keeping a neutral expression, but his eyes always gave him away. She’d never told him that. Had never wanted to give away that the fire in his green eyes told her everything she needed to know and then some if she just looked long enough. Telling him that would have meant giving up an advantage and she had needed every single one that she could find. Like having a door between them to stop herself from doing something stupid, not that it was really working, but she wasn’t actively trying to push him down any stairs so at least an attempted murder charge was not in her future… yet. Or rather again.

“You know full well what my views on the universe are.” Joy snapped back, longing to swing the door open and punch him. He was long overdue having his nose broken again, it had nearly been seven cycles since the ‘beak’ as she so sweetly called it had a good knock. Honestly though, it was the ‘beak’ that saved him from being anything along the lines of classically handsome and that was something she’d always enjoyed. All the imperfections that made him easy to reach towards but impossible to hold. Gods, Joy mourned her own sanity as she turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door, she had gotten weak in her old age. 30 cycles was far too long to have to deal with life and all the shit that came with it.

Squinting into the bright sunshine, Joy studied the man in front of her silently. The angular jaw and high cheekbones that made him alluring, the sharp nose and deep set eyes that saved him from being picturesque. She just wanted to step forward and wrap her arms around him, feel his lean, smooth frame against her as she buried her head against his neck and just enjoy the clean scent that always clung to his skin. As it was Joy was already close enough that she could see the old acne scars that showed up faintly beneath his tan skin. For a second, she missed the days when they first met, even the raging redness that marred any illusion of him actually being attractive unless completely smashed on the hardest Orian spirits. Sadly, she had been completely sober when she’d first looked at him and afterwards, she could never bring herself to look away.

So, fucking weak it was beyond hilarious, the realisation had her lips curling upwards in a mocking smile, while Di’xon glared at her in complete disappointment, his thin lips moving as his mask slipped enough to frown at her apparent humour. He had always loathed her inappropriate sense of humour. Apparently, self-deprecation and cynicism weren’t entertaining source material for jokes. However, he had always known exactly what would amuse her and had been willing to indulge her jokes despite his own views on the matter.

“I am going to ask Spectre to give you an interview. I am sure you would be able to find a suitable position in the copy editor’s department that wouldn’t be to straining.” His tone remained flat as he looked down at her, essentially telling her what was going to happen next in her life. It was infuriating, he was never supposed to look down. She’d had all the advantages, she had always been on top and now here he was kicking her while she was down with a failed attempt at help.

Unbidden, the laughter slipped past her lips, loud, mocking and on the verge of being hysterical as Joy took a step backwards into the entryway. “Subbing text.” Joy managed between bursts of laughter, grey eyes dancing with madness. “Not if I was starving to death on the streets and it was the only job in the entire universe. I was there for the foreign correspondent post that GNN has open for covering the Shandiri desert.” And there she was oversharing, chewing his ear off as she had always done. “But then as you know, I remembered that it would mean selling my soul so reconsidered. I still may need that for a little bit longer as damaged as it may be.”  
She was lying, both knew it. 

Joy had messed up, she knew it with every word that escaped her, mainly because there was no way to miss the anger growing in Di’xon’s eyes or the way that he somehow seemed to actually loom closer towards her, forcing her to either stand her ground or retreat enough for him to step into the house. And damn it all if she didn’t take the easier option and retreat. A move that allowed the idiot to follow her into her house, his black dress shoes silent on the ancient red carpet that covered the entrance of the narrow building.

“You can’t lie to me about this Joy. No news organisation would let you anywhere near a story about someone’s lost pet puffien let alone anything as big as the famine in Shandiri. You are amazing at your job, Joy, but you are also the person that single handedly ruined one of the biggest news organisations in all of Gaia.” Di’xon’s voice softened slightly as he uttered the word amazing. It was gut wrenching and threw Joy back into the past. Suddenly, she wasn’t standing in her darkened entry hall surrounded by hordes of coats hanging forgotten on ancient brass hooks and breathing in the scent of paint that lingered in every corner of the house.

Instead she was back in Nexus’ newsroom, listening to Matthew as he tore himself to pieces about his perceived mishandling of a story before turning to look at her with wide eyes. “You are better than me at this. Joy. It just comes to you and all I am good at is reciting facts drilled into me by an expensive, private school.” When he had joined Nexus, she had just started to make a name of herself. But she had instantly recognised that his soul was just as tortured at hers and one thousand times more brilliant. The kid had skill, he just needed confidence. From that first day, he’d made it impossible for her to not to reach out and give him all the strength she could spare even though she was just as torn apart as he was. Now, it was like a dagger being driven deep into the pit of her stomach upon hearing that he still seemed to hold onto the idea that she was somehow more than she was, while also a failure. It was the opposite to view, which was that she still had it all and could simply force the entire world to see it. 

“Nothing quite like a Matthew Di’xon compliment. Being called great in one breath and an utter failure in the next.” Joy deadpanned, the argument started forming naturally. Probably because nearly conversation that they had ever had since the day they met had been a fight even though they depended on each other and agreed on the most matters socially and politically, the only things that had really mattered since they had been nothing but their jobs for so long.

“You know I didn’t mean it that way.” He hissed, his voice dropping lower as he stalked towards her. His eyes blazing as he reached for Joy. A move that truly cemented her theory that all the karma in the known universe from the thirtieth planet and back had decided to crap all over her life. Matthew’s hand quickly sought out and found the small of her back, his heat searing through the thin cotton of the white blouse she wore and through her entire being if she was completely honest, as he drew her towards him. Lust hit her like a sledge hammer as it always did when they made this mistake. It was a mistake, one that was made repeatedly because in the end apparently neither of them had managed to live and learn, despite the intelligence that they were both meant to possess. It always took mere seconds for them to fall into routine no matter the situation.

The mood around them shifted as he leaned in closer, the air growing heavy with tension and maddening heat. Joy’s laughter should have been at odds with the atmosphere growing between them, but it was an instinctive response to the familiar look that always destoryed Matthew’s mask completely. It was yet another thing she had never told him, that he could not hide his desire when he leaned in for a kiss. It was simply written on every inch of his face. 

Di'xon wasted no time in taking advantage of her laughter, his mouth plundering hers. It was rough and wild, it always was. His hands started clawing against her back as he yanked her even closer against him. His teeth nipped at her lips almost painfully as he demanded more. Which she gave, which she always gave with an eagerness that made her cheeks burn a shameful red. Thank the gods that the freckles that decorated her nose and cheekbones helped disguise some of the flushed the evidence of her weakness. Joy could not bear it if Di’xon knew how he completely wrecked her.

She couldn’t because this wasn’t love. It wasn’t something that had the right to drive either of them crazy or give them an excuse to be together. Because they were never together. Yet knowing that didn’t stop Joy from moaning into the needy embrace, her body straining up against his as her arms wrapped around Matthew’s shoulders. More, she thought dimly as her tongue met his and her nails dug into his blazer with enough force that it felt like she could tear it from his body. As it was his hands had already started to wander, fingers dipping below the waistband of her trousers to stroke against the angry, red line the unforgiving fabric had left on her pale skin.  
“You are an idiot.” Joy panted as she tore her swollen lips away from his, her lungs burning as she drew in ragged breath of air, her hands fisted tightly as she held onto him.  
“So you always tell me.” Matthew muttered, easing back just enough for his hands to have enough room to work on the button that held her pants up, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows as he noted at the blue thread that held the black button to the black trousers. He was always one for catching the minute details and then overthinking them to death. “But I don’t care. You do nothing about it.”

With that, Di’xion apparently decided that he had no patience to deal with her gods-awful trousers as he grabbed both sides of the fabric and gave it a hard yank, causing the button to pop off and roll away as he made short work of stripping her lower half bare. Just like he had done three cycles before when he had first broken the trousers and caused her to repair them with the thread that didn’t match. Joy smiled as she found herself remembering that particular encounter. They had bumped into each other in the early hours of the morning in the newsroom. She had just landed back on Gaia an hour before hand and he’d just finished a relay satellite interview with some Galaxian politician. It had taken them less than three minutes to go from saying hello to fucking against the wall of their boss’s office. A move that had successfully crossed off their private dare of having sex at work.

“What can I say, I have learnt that there is no hope of ever being able to educate you.” Joy responded as she willingly allowed herself to be pushed to the floor, her legs spreading as Matthew lowered himself between them, joining her in making yet another mistake. Her mind screamed at her for it, reminding her that she was meant to be keeping him out of her life. Instead, she tangled her fingers in his hair, ruining any attempt of neatness that he’d coaxed the brown strands into. Her breath was coming out in hot, desperate gasps as his long fingers made quick work of unbuttoning her blouse. His groan of approval at the sight of her full breasts spilling out of the lace of her bra was not at all fake as he hastily ducked down to place hot kisses along the soft flesh. His teeth and tongue losing no time as he marks her delicate skin. 

He knows that she doesn’t like them anywhere else, neither of them do, not when they are with each other. This act, between them is not something that others are allowed to see. The evidence of their lack of control is always carefully concealed and the fact that nothing has changed over time just adds to it, she mused as moved against him. Breathing sometimes felt that it did not come as easily as this and she hated that and loved it.

Only it wasn’t love.

“You are going to hate me for this.” Matthew gasped, as he lifted his head and stared down at her now naked form, her white bra hanging off the tip of his index finger as he looked at her a long moment as if trying to see if she had somehow changed since he had last been with her. She knew that she had, but his length was still hard and hot in his pants as his hips ground against her without any thought. “Or rather keep hating me.” Di’xion added as he tossed her bra to the floor and moved down to unbuckle his belt and unceremoniously shove his trousers and underwear down around his knees, freeing himself before bending over Joy again. The rough fabric of his jacket grazing against her hard nipples making Joy gasp and yank on his hair.

“It doesn’t matter.” She mumbled, her eyes dark as she met his gaze, her legs spreading wider as she bent her knees and hooked them over his lower back. Her heels pressing into the firm cheeks of his ass as she encouraged him closer. “This is just another mistake. Like every other one we have made.”

An echoing cry escaped her as she felt his length brush against her slick heat. A cry that only grew louder as he entered her with one long, hard thrust. He didn’t hold back, not even giving her a moment to adjust to having him inside her again as he set a fast and ruthless pace. His hips slamming against her with enough force that Joy wondered what the bruises would look like as she bucked desperately to meet his every movement. Her back arched off the carpet as she strained to feel more. Harder, faster, Joy thought in frustration as she felt him thrust inside her. The heat dancing in her veins, growing into a burning inferno as he slanted his mouth over hers, stealing a hard, bruising kiss as if he’d somehow managed to hear her silent pleas. She moaned into the kiss as he thrust harder into her tightness.

Her nails scratched blindly at his neck and clutched uselessly around his covered shoulders, her own marks soon littered across his skin just as his marked hers. It was a mistake, a mistake that she had spent six months trying to avoid making. But gods, she had missed this, Joy thought as she writhed against the carpet, not at all caring of the friction burns that she knew would be all over her back by the time they were done.

Matthew fucked her like a man possessed, his movements holding an urgency that she has never seen before as he doesn’t slow down for even a second. Sweat slid down the curve of his hips and landed on her thigh, his fingers moving between them to seek out the bundle of nerves that had her screaming into the kiss, her body clenching around him like a vice as he forced her orgasm from her without any mercy. For a split second, Joy found herself thinking that perhaps Di’xon had learnt to hate her to in the six months that they had been apart because there was something different about this coupling and there was a possibility that it could be true anger. But she quickly dismissed the idea as he continued to drive his length to her over-sensitive, aching body. Matthew was blunt when it came to anger and used distance to calm himself not sex.

Still he was tense and hot, his thrusts becoming more erratic with every breath as he pounded into her. A shatter groan leaving him as he broke the kiss and instead ended up panting against her collarbone, the press of his fingers leaving Joy without any doubt that he intended to pull yet another orgasm from her body before this was over. “I…” Matthew hissed, his voice barely audible over her own cries of pleasure as his index finger rubbed her with just too much pressure making her scream as she hit her breaking point. It was annoying how loud she was during sex, but Joy had accepted that she liked expressing pleasure and had decided not to give a damn about it very early on into her sex life. Almost too soon, she found her body growing tense as she came again. Her own slickness was quickly joined by his, as with one last thrust, Matthew came.

Pulling out slowly and offering a sympathetic grimace to Joy’s wince as she felt his release dripping from her body leaving her thighs in a sticky mess, Di’xon practically collapsed next to her on the carpet, both of them silent as they tried to get their breath back. “I am arranging an interview for you with Spectre.” He finally managed to tell her, the stubbornness in his voice undeniable as he turned his head to stare at her. The blue button down he was still wearing looking completely rumpled, which coupled with his messed-up hair had Joy remembering how young he actually was at twenty-five and how completely infuriating he could be when speaking.

“That’s nice, but I won’t go.” She replied, her eyes dark as she slowly stood up ignoring the way her legs trembled at the action, her cheeks burning red as she felt the mess he had made between her thighs and saw his eyes fixed on her bare breasts. “Now, please leave. Unless, you want to explain your presence to Lyyn.” Her tiny Galaxian roommate had a no tolerance policy when it came to annoying people, and Matthew knew all too well what she thought of him, and no one in their right mind would dare upset the pint-sized terror. There was a lot of truth to the story that the tabloids had run a cycle back about Lyyn nearly taking out a critic’s eye with a paint brush during a showing. Turning away from the male and whatever the hell he was trying to say to her, Joy walked up the stairs, her rage stopping her from looking back. Her rage and the fact that she wanted to get to the bathroom before making to much of a mess on the carpet.

Hearing the reassuring sound of the front door shutting as she reached the top of the stairs, Joy found herself letting out a breath that she didn’t know that she had been holding. He had actually left. As much as she liked to think the threat of coming face to face Lyyn’s wrath would enough to get him to leave, she knew that Di’xon could be crazier than her when he felt that there was no other means left to accomplish his goal other than one of pure danger. Which was also a bit problematic, because his leaving meant that the idiot thought that he had another way to get to her. Shivering as she stepped onto the landing, Joy paused as she was hit by the fact that she’d left her clothes lying on the floor. Well, that could be a possible theory as to why Lyyn was capable of doing nude works of art involving her without needing her as a model. So, she lived with a silent voyeur. Hardly surprising, but perhaps better than possible bathroom cameras, Joy mused as she walked into en suite bathroom, where she vowed she was not going to think about how much she had fucked up with Di’xon…again. Nope, not even for a second.

He was right, she was such a liar.


	3. Friends do care... Possibly?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I admit that this is unedited and written on a train. But, I did have fun writing it so who cares. Lyyn Nova is possibly my favourite character.

“Him,” came Lyyn’s greeting when Joy finally emerged from her bedroom six hours later. She had contemplated never leaving her room, but there were only so many hours that she could spend curled up in a ball of misery before her growling stomach betrayed. She’d needed food and the knowledge last night’s takeout still being in the kitchen was far too tempting to ignore. Still, dressed in an oversized jumper that she had borrowed a few years back from a random partner and never bothered to return, looking like an utter mess as her hair did its best to impersonate a bird’s nest, Joy wished that she had toughed it out.

However, as far as greetings went it was one of the Galaxian’s more vocal ones as Lyyn could pretty much convey everything she needed to say with a single nod. It was a bit odd that they were so close when Joy considered her constant need to talk in comparison to her silent companion. Yet, after all the cycles that they had known each other and in fact lived together, it was hardly surprising that theirs was an easy relationship despite the numerous differences between them. The benefits of knowing someone your entire life were undeniably useful at times. 

Rubbing her swollen, lower lip distractedly, Joy stared at her roommate sitting down at the ancient wooden table that dominated their cluttered kitchen eating what looked like entire leg of lamb with a bit too much glee. She knew that residents of Galax were practically carnivores, but it was hard to resist the shudder that ran through her as Joy watched the girl’s sharp teeth tear into the flesh with far too much ease. It was disconcerting taking in Lyyn’s vicious teeth and the claws that she knew would grow if the artist wasn’t so attentive about keeping them filed down with the rest of the little alien’s appearance.

Sky blue hair that was cut short and playful, revealing delicately pointed ears, which when coupled with Lyyn’s tiny, fragile bone structure and the green gem that glowed on her forehead always made Joy think that her friend had walked out of one the storybooks that her nanny had read to her as a child. However, it was Lyyn’s solid, black, pupiless eyes and the hidden dangers that lurked in them that reminded that no matter how whimsical the Galaxian race looked, they had a legacy as one of the most brutal and bloodthirsty races in the universe.

In some small part of her brain, Joy often wondered if she would ever push Lyyn far enough that her endless patience would snap and leave GNN running headlines about how one of the universe’s brightest up-and-coming artists had been found feasting on the corpse of her annoying roommate. Though it had been nearly nine cycles since they had started living together and somehow, she had yet managed to push the Galaxian to insanity. Hmm, perhaps she was slipping, Joy pondered as she walked around the table and towards the cooler to retrieve the leftovers that she knew would be waiting for her.

“Him.” Joy echoed, ignoring the disapproving eyebrow that Lyyn arched in her direction while taking another vicious bite of meat. Gods, life would be so much easier if she didn’t keep stupidly hooking-up with one of the few men that Lyyn had found irritating on first sight instead of the usual five minutes it typically took. It didn’t help that the first time they’d met, Di’xon had been five sheets to the wind after a party at the Orian Embassy and on his way back to bed from the bathroom had ended up in Lyyn’s bed instead of her’s. Why he hadn’t used her bathroom was still confusing. But, the brunette couldn’t hold back a smile as she recalled the shrieking and yelps that had woken her up that morning. Though neither of the them had appreciated her laughter and it had been an unspoken rule for a while that Di’xon’s place would be a more suitable venue for any future get togethers after that.

“If it helps any way, I am still pissed with him and I am afraid that moving has become a real possibility in our near future.” Joy added grimly, as she grabbed her own food and sat down opposite Lyyn, knowing that the artist’s silence was an invitation to continue.

“The idiot has gotten a job with GNN, and the only position he would have taken with his resume is as their political editor. This was his stomping ground before and now it is going to be his damn kingdom. He actually has power with the neighbours.” Joy’s voice rose in volume as she found herself starting to rant.

Something that had Lyyn giving her an actual scowl. It was a perhaps a bit of an exaggeration on her behalf, but in the last six hours that she spent attached to her holo-screen reading up about Di’xon’s predecessor at the GNN had been rather informing. The former political editor had gotten one hell of a farewell party when he retired, which had been attended by a great many politicians and the Gaian Crown Prince.

It was depressing really, that she had spent the last six months watching paint dry while hanging out with Lyyn, and the idiot had managed to go from being one of a dozen political correspondents to the youngest editor in the business. Success, power and a record all in one move. However, it wasn’t at all surprising. Matthew was nothing if not an overachiever and he was probably still berating himself for not having gotten the job last cycle already.

Hands clenched, Joy forced herself to let out a slow breath, gifting her annoyed friend with a weak smile. “He is trying to get me a copy editor position at GNN.” She finished, her smile growing as she watched Lyyn’s eyes widen.

The small Galaxian gave a snort, shaking her head at the former journalist’s words. “I enjoy being the breadwinner.” The artist finally added having processed Joy’s rant. She tore off another chunk of meat and chewed it thoughtfully, smiling when the the white bone was revealed. A long moment dragged out between them, before Lyyn chose to continue. Her eyes narrowed as she set down the bone she had been gnawing on and gave Joy a long look. 

“I am not climbing up the drainpipe again.” She said, her tone grave. “No going back to that.” Her statement was final as she tossed her food back onto her plate and left the kitchen without another word. 

Alright, that was interesting, Joy thought as she watched the pale, purple tinged form of her roommate disappear up the spiral staircase to the third floor. The floor belonged entirely to the artists after it had somehow over the years turned into an art studio, without any discussion. 

She couldn’t believe that Lyyn had mentioned it. It was unspoken agreement between them that they never talked about the fact that Joy had been in such a state three months before that she had locked Lyyn out of the house and completely lost her shit. It had been a very dark day emotionally. Joy didn’t like to think about what would have happened if Lyyn hadn’t taken matters into her own hands and climbed a drainpipe two stories and broken through her bedroom window. 

She was surprised that Lyyn was worried though. Despite all the time together, she knew that emotions were foreign to Lyyn in many ways. She didn’t give a damn about people dying, Joy had first-hand experience with that side of Lyyn to confirm it. But, apparently the little alien seemed to think that one bad day was going to make her spiral again. 

An amusing belief because as far as Joy knew, she hadn’t stopped spiralling since she had been freed. It was probably more a case of Lyyn not wanting to get locked out of her studio. Staring down at her cold noodles, she found herself no longer wanting to eat. She had wanted today to be a break from the pattern, the first step in putting her life back together and she in the exact same position she had been in the day before. 

Picking up the carton of food, Joy tossed into the bin. Honestly, she didn’t know what she was meant to do. She couldn’t just become a normal person with a regular job. Her skills only really applied to PR or journalism, and there was no way in hell she was going to apply for a position writing press releases. Most of them were about the Royal family anyway and their numerous cousins. 

Besides, such a job wouldn’t make Lyyn happy either, the brunette mused. After all it would be so much harder to take over part of the house and install a solar kiln or a darkroom if she was actually home instead of spending two months in the 9th quadrant covering a story about the increase of piracy that was developing among the ruins of abandoned space stations from Gaia’s early days of space exploration.

Staring down at her reflection on the bin’s lid, she found her traitorous mind wandering yet again. The memory of Di’xon’s fingers running over the harsh, red indents on her skin during their encounter. Frowning angrily, the former journalist gave the bin a sharp kick, turning away from it with a frustrated huff. Yeah, nothing like losing your appetite to ruin a day. Except her day was already ruined, which meant it didn’t matter all.

“I am going to get a job!” Joy shouted, despite knowing that nobody was going to hear her. Lyyn would already be lost in her own world of paint and Saimia Shouting, a particularly loud form of music that Joy fully believed someone had to be completely tone deaf or rather, completely deaf, to enjoy. “A job that will get me off this damn planet and back where I belong.” She added. 

It was time to respond to his letter.


End file.
